Shadow Exiles
by Jess J
Summary: Co-written by NightSlash, WiP. A HellboyVan Helsing crossover. When a powerful vampire emerges, Hellboy and Van Helsing must join forces to keep the world from falling into shadow.
1. Prologue

Author's note: Here's the prologue for the story NightSlash and I are working on. Be sure to give him credit in the reviews, which I must ask for, as we writers like getting reviews. Anyway, enjoy, and word of warning: There is a rather gruesome scene at the end of this. Ok, I'm done. Review.

Disclaimer: These characters aren't mine. They belong to either Stephen Sommers and Universal, Sony pictures and whoever has the rights to Hellboy, or NightSlash. Please do not sue me. Savvy?

PROLOGUE:

Hellboy sat at his father's desk, looking through the pages of an old manuscript, the words all in Latin. It spoke of different myths, demons and gods. Of werewolves, vampires, succubus, incubus, many other creatures that had become nothing but one-dimensional characters in campy horror movies.

But they were just some of the creatures Hellboy had to face regularly.

He continued to read through the pages, studying some of the older myths of the origins of such beings. His father had been fascinated and horrified by such things, all at once. But he had gathered all this knowledge and taught it to Hellboy and Abe, training them to fight these creatures.

"HB?" came a familiar, soft voice.

Hellboy looked up to see Liz walking into the shadowy room. He had left many of the lamps off, except the one closest to the desk. He closed the manuscript, smiling at her, feeling a familiar lump in his throat. He still got it when he saw her. Even if it was no longer a one-sided crush.

Liz walked over to him, returning the smile. "HB, what are you doing up so late?" she asked as she sat down near the desk.

"I couldn't sleep, I thought I'd come here and read," Hellboy replied.

Liz nodded. "I heard you walking through the hallway," she said, giving her reason for being up. "And when I didn't hear you come back through after a while, I decided to get up and see what was wrong." She stood up and walked over, kissing Hellboy's cheek softly. "Get some sleep, HB."

Hellboy nodded, smiling up at her with a shrug. "I'll be fine. I'll go back in a few minutes, I just want to finish this book," he assured her.

"Ok," Liz replied and turned away, walking back out of the library. Hellboy watched her go, feeling that familiar longing in his chest. Once she was gone, he looked back down at the page he was on, telling of a Vampiric creature that caused havoc in Macedonia.

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The wolf was vicious, without mercy, tearing through delicate flesh and crushing small bones. The smell of blood hung in the air around the large predator, almost tangible. The wolf let out a roar, loud and echoing through the halls of the estate it was in.

His estate. No, not his, the human he was when the full moon's light did shone unhidden.

Amber eyes looked down at the shredded body at the wolf's feet. Clouds swept over the moon, and the wolf howled as he started to weaken and shift, growing small, fur falling to the floor as tan skin was exposed. Amber eyes turned back to green and the howl became a human cry of pain.

Velkan looked down at the corpse, blood pooling around his feet and the body. The gypsy prince screamed in rage and sorrow when he saw the wide eyes frozen in fear and the face, left untouched by the monster inside him.

"ANNA!!!!"

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"NO!" Velkan shouted as he sat up abruptly, panting and sweating as he sat in bed, finally relaxing as he realized it was just a dream. Always, just a dream. He hadn't killed his sister. It had just been the fear that had plagued him since his turning. A fear that he no longer had any reason for, except in his dreams.

A soft, cool hand touched his shoulder lightly, and Velkan turned. "Was it the same nightmare tonight?" Marishka asked him as she sat up as well.

Velkan nodded, closing his eyes and signing. "Yes. Always that dream," he said softly.

Marishka stroked his face soothingly, wrapping her arms around him and kissing his shoulder gently. "It is all right, my love, you did not harm her. You have not harmed any innocent," she whispered comfortingly.

Sighing softly, Velkan turned his head toward her, reaching up with one hand and cupping her face. He pulled her closer, kissing her fiercely, wrapping his arms around her as she returned the kiss with a soft moan.

Marishka pressed herself closer to him, her head falling back when Velkan kissed down her jaw and neck, suckling her jugular and nipping at it teasingly.

"Velkan," she whispered breathily, pushing him back down and kissing him passionately. She ran her cool hands down his almost feverish body, nails raking over his chest.

With a grin, Velkan rolled them both over, settling down on top of her, holding most of his weight with his arms at each side of her. He kissed her again, her moans and the feel of her limbs clinging to him sending the visions from the nightmares far from his mind.

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It was raining so loudly above them. Samantha hated the sound of it on the glass, it made her cringe. She was bored too. She didn't understand why Daddy made her come with him to such a boring show. It was just old junk, with a few pretty, shiny things.

The long sword was shiny and pretty, but it was hardly enough distraction to the six year old. She kept looking up at the skylight, cringing at the sound of the rain. She pulled at her father's coat, she had been quiet and good and still for long enough.

"Daddy, please, let's go home," Samantha pleaded, staring up at her father with a pout and sad eyes. "I want to go home, I don't like it here," she continued.

Her father sighed and nodded, smiling down at the little girl. The sound of liquid dropping into liquid distracted him for a moment, and he looked up in time to see a drop of rain fall into his coffee cup. He raised his head to look at the skylight, just as it cracked and the glass broke, crashing down.

Glass, rain, and a man in black clothing fell to the floor, the man quickly standing up and pulling out two, long, thin, shiny things and running them through Samantha's father.

Samantha watched, wide-eyed and terrified as her father's coffee cup fell to the ground, spilling the dark liquid all over the floor. Then another dark liquid, red this time, started to pool around her father as he joined the cup, eyes open and blank, staring right at Samantha.

The little girl screamed and stared up at the dark stranger, seeing only a black mask instead of a face, like something fm a nightmare. The masked man glanced at her, then looked up as two guard entered, people screaming and running out.

Samantha kneeled down by her father, poking him and then shaking him. "Daddy! Daddy!" she kept crying over and over, sobbing as he kept staring at her blankly. She looked up, seeing the masked man get shot by the guards, then another man dropping from the window, wearing dark clothes as well but no scary mask.

The new stranger lunged at the guards, ripping their throats. Samantha clutched her father tightly as she heard the guards make gurgling noises and clutch at their throats, falling to the floor just like her father had. She tried not to cry so loudly, she didn't want the men to hear her. She didn't want the men to hurt her.

The masked man starting walking to the shiny sword, slashing his two, no longer shiny swords at everyone near him, the other man tearing into people as they screamed and tried to get away.

Samantha saw her chance, the two men were busy with the others, and they were far away from her. She kissed her daddy one last time, crying softly, and then ran as fast as her legs could take her, running for the exit, panting with fear.

But as Samantha reached the door, another dark clad man came in, opening it and walking in slowly, head high. He was wearing a dark coat, and dark shirt that exposed his neck. Samantha, for some reason, remembered her mommy saying it was never good to expose your neck when it was raining and cold, but this man looked like he was comfortable in the cold air.

The new stranger stared down at her as she skidded to halt in front of him. Her eyes were wide with fear and she was trembling. But he didn't strike at her, didn't have anything shiny, no weapon. He merely crouched down, stroking her cheek gently, smiling at her.

Samantha knew she wasn't supposed to let strangers do that. But he was nice. Calming. He made her feel safe even with all the screams behind her, even with her daddy dead behind her, even with the two mean strangers behind her.

"Run home," the stranger said in a soothing voice. It was like a lullaby, soothing and calming, making Samantha feel even safer. "This is no place for a child," he told her, and stood.

Samantha nodded and ran out the door obediently, running down the street, running until someone saw her and stopped her, asking her what was wrong.

Baal watched her go, then turned and strode through the chaos surrounding him, striding straight up to the sword on the auction table. Amazingly, the auctioneer hadn't run with the others. He seemed to be frozen in shocked. As Baal neared, he grabbed the man's wrist, throwing him out of the way with extreme force.

The man screamed in pain as he was flung aside. His arm still in Baal's grasp. Baal glanced over and let go, shrugging. He walked up to the table, staring down at the sword.

It was long and sheathed. At the end of the handle was a circle and two, claw, reptilian fingers holding it. At the base, a similar thing, two fingers, identical except slightly larger, point straight out. The handle itself was like the skin of a reptile, green and with a scaled texture.

Picking it up with a soft smile, Baal unsheathed it, twirling it in his fingers, switching it from hand to hand. He sheathed it again and started walking back out. "Kroenen, Rafe, hurry and finish. We don't want too many witnesses yet."


	2. Chapter One

Author's note: Again, most of the credit goes to NightSlash, I just wrote what he told me too. So give him due in the reviews. And please review. I don't think I need to say why, but just in case you forgot, they really, really matter to writers. Thank you. Enjoy.

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. They belong to either Stephen Sommers and Universal, Sony Pictures and whoever does the Hellboy comics, or NightSlash. Please, do not sue me, I mean no copyright infringement or harm or whatever. Savvy?

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CHAPTER ONE:

Gabriel Van Helsing hated his job. Mostly because of the places he kept having to work in. Like sewers. Especially the sewers in big cities. New York probably had the worst sewers in the United States, but New Jersey's cities had some pretty bad sewers too.

He turned down another tunnel, kicking away a few rats, his run raised and ready to shoot. He heard something, a crawling sound, like claws scraping against the sewer floor. Or wall.

Whatever creature he had followed down here, it was pure evil, Gabriel could tell that. Evil and most likely incredibly hard to kill. They stronger the evil was, the harder it was to kill usually. Except in the case of serial killers. But Gabriel didn't deal with those.

The sound of a growl made Gabriel turn down a tunnel at his right. He looked around, eyes squinting as he tried to see. The tunnel was darker, farther away from the busy streets and sunlight.

Naturally.

Suddenly Gabriel heard something breathing, then drop behind him and he turned to find himself facing a huge demon on all fours, greenish skin and dreadlock like tentacles hanging from it's head. It's maw opened and Gabriel took the opening, shooting into it's throat.

The demon yowled and swiped at him, knocking him into the wall. It then turned and started to run down another tunnel.

"Oh, no you don't," Gabriel muttered and ran after it, shooting and pulling out one of his Tojo blades. He pushed himself to run faster, despite the pain he was in. The demon was incredibly strong, and the blow had hurt like rip. The impact with the wall had nearly knocked him out. But he wasn't about to let this monster get away.

Gabriel turned down another tunnel and smirked. Dead end. Either the monster was as new to the layout as he was, or it had panicked and let itself get lost. It really didn't matter, as long as he had it trapped.

Immediately raising his gun, he charged and shot at the thing, wincing slightly as it reared up on its hind legs, opening its mouth wide and roaring. Gabriel kept running toward it, reaching it before it could come back down. He slashed at its stomach with the blade, then the head and the side. It howled in pain, and Gabriel moved to the side, avoiding the massive body as it collapsed to the ground.

Panting slightly, Gabriel decided to be sure and he again slashed and cut up the creature, finally stopping at it started to disintegrate.

Panting and wincing in pain, he walked off, trying to find his way back up to the world above. He really, really wanted to take a shower.

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Mortals were boring. Incredibly boring. And their stores were so lifeless and bland. Provided no entertainment at all practically. Though, the vide cameras were fun. Raghnall stuck his tongue out at the lot of them, smirking at his image on the TV. He waved his hands around, swirling his fingers as if conjuring some dark spirit.

After a few minutes though, the cameras became boring. Even watching himself was getting boring, when he wasn't doing something extraordinary in the eyes of mortals. He wanted to watch himself strike fear in the pathetic weaklings' hearts, massacre everyone in the building and savor the look of terror in their eyes without even breaking a sweat.

But, according to Baal, he had to wait a little while. Why he was obeying Baal, Raghnall was still unsure of. Raghnall really wasn't interested in world domination. Too much responsibility. He liked having mortals around, and he liked letting them have their illusion of control.

It made it all the more fun to play with their minds.

Raghnall sighed. This was boring now. Then he grinned, getting an idea. A wicked one, if he did say so himself. Snapping his fingers, he watched as the cameras simultaneously sparked and shorted out, his image on the TV screen fading to black.

Baal had said not to display power. Well, that could not be considered a display of power. It took no power to do that, and he was hardly displaying it.

Walking off, Raghnall whistled an old, Irish tune, smirking to himself. His smirk grew at the sounds of confusion and fear behind him, employees struggling to find and fix the problem. He glanced back briefly, eyes twinkling with sadistic glee.

Oh, yes. It was so much more fun to play with people's minds when they thought they were in control.

Raghnall strode out of the store, walking down the sidewalk, ignoring the traffic and other people around him. He turned down an alley, walking past a bar. About five punk biker types walked out, dizzy and unable to even focus their eyes well.

They were drunk. Humans were even more annoying, and often hysterical, when they were drunk.

The biggest one noticed Raghnall, and sneered in contempt. "Yo, look at this loser. Dressing like some sort of fairy," the brute muttered with a slur. The others laughed behind him, almost losing their balance from the sudden outburst.

While the bikers were laughing, they failed to notice the crackle in the air, or the way it suddenly got so quiet, no wind, no birds. No traffic. It was as if suddenly, with their insult, all of nature and the human world had fled from the warlock's wrath.

Raghnall grinned, spreading his hands at his sides slightly. His grinned widened as the bikers suddenly stopped laughing, looking around in confusion and then staring at Raghnall with apprehension. His eyes flickered over to a nearby car. Then back to the lead biker.

Within seconds, the door from the driver's side was yanked off by some unseen force, slamming into the lead biker and pinning him into the brick wall of the bar, crushing his body in a most uncomfortable position. The sight of his eyes hanging from their sockets and blood gushing from countless places made one of the bikers gag before running off with theirs, all of them screaming like little girls.

Whistling yet again, Raghnall turned and walked off, the sound and wind returning to the alley as he did. None of the people at the bar even noticed him walking away as they came out to see what had made the horrible noise.

Nobody noticed the oddly dressed man whistling and smirking at the sounds of screams and vomiting.

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Baal entered his bedchamber angrily, glaring at the female in his bed, along with the now dead male body. He stormed over, grabbing the corpse and walking over to the window. He ignored the hiss from Desdemona and opened the window, throwing the corpse out and turning back to the bed.

"I seem to forget giving you permission to use my bed to feed your lust," Baal said as he approached the scantily clad succubus lying amidst his sheets. "Oh, yes. That's because I never gave you permission to do so."

Desdemona shrugged and slide off, slowly walking up to Baal, her hips swaying ever so slightly. Her reddish hair, almost crimson, Baal often thought, hung down around her beautifully cruel face. She smiled up at him, her eyes still filled with lust.

"I was bored, and you were gone for quite some time," she replied softly. She walked back over to the bed, crawling back into it, lying down on her side. She smiled, the expression snakelike somehow.

Baal was in no mood for her games or her desires. He had business to conduct. "Where's the warlock?" he asked, voice clipped and dark, like a warning, but the succubus never heeded threats.

Shrugging, she laid back. "Raghnall went out for some fun. I don't know where," she added, before rising up to a sitting position, slowly reaching up and sliding off the straps of her flimsy dress. "Why not have some fun before he gets back?"

Baal smirked and walked to the bed, leaning over until he was practically kissing her. "My dear, with you, I can never have fun." He stood back up and walked out. "Get dressed and get out of my bed immediately.

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Desdemona glanced up from where she was lying on a plush sofa in one of the many rooms of Baal's estate as the doors flew open and a moment later, Raghnall strode through the entrance. She glowered slightly at the self-satisfied smirk on the warlock's face.

"Why are you in such a good mood?" she asked with a slight hiss.

Raghnall glanced over at her, pausing. His smirk grew and he walked a few steps closer. "I had some fun. Obviously, Baal didn't agree with your idea of fun, or else you would have that afterglow or whatever mortals call it. Instead, you're more sour than a lemon."

"Silence, warlock. I do not care how powerful you imagine you are, remember this," she hissed, her eyes narrowing with contempt and scorn. "You were born a human, a frail mortal like those you kill to amuse yourself. I was not."

Smirking, Raghnall leaned over close. "You don't scare me, Bitch." He stood and walked off. He knocked on Baal's door and yelled loudly, "I took care of Sammael, your evilness." He then walked off, ignoring the sound of something breakable hitting the door. "You should learn to control your temper, Desdemona."

With a glare and a pout, Desdemona sat back and tried to make herself calm down. She bit her lip when she heard Raghnall restore the vase she had thrown. She did let out a soft growl when he chuckled to himself and whistled that infernal tune of his.

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Marishka woke to a strange coolness. She opened her eyes, realizing why she felt so much cooler. She sat up, looking for Velkan, but he was not just missing from the bed. He was gone from the bedroom. She slide out of bed, her eyes focusing on the open window as the sound of light traffic met her eyes.

He was on the roof again.

Quickly dressing in a simple white nightgown, Marishka walked over to the window and changed into harpy form, leaping out, her wings spreading before she could fall. She flew up to the roof, landing beside Velkan, changing back to human form.

"The nightmare still bothering you?" she asked softly, walking up to him. She could tell he was edgy, he was fully dressed, all the way down to his boots and black duster. She placed her hand on his shoulder, looking up at him.

He glanced at her. "No, it's not just that. There's a chill in the wind tonight. A strange scent," he tried to explain to her. He looked around. "You see how clear it is, how clam the wind is, how quiet even the city has become?"

Marishka nodded. "Like a calm before a storm," she whispered.

Velkan looked straight at her, eyes haunted. "No, like _the _calm before _the_ storm. Something is coming." He turned to her, pulling her to him and kissing her softly. He broke the kiss a moment later, kissing her forehead.

"You do not need to worry, Velkan. We have survived everything, and we will survive whatever is approaching," Marishka assured her mate. She reached up, brushing his hair away from his face, smiling.

He nodded, managing a smiles as well. "I'm sure you're right."


End file.
